Trust
by purplepam
Summary: On a cloudless night, she asks him about trust. He doesn't trust anyone. She sees that, yet she feels the need to ask him. AU.


**Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me.**

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** Trust**

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It all started in the sixth year she was at Hogwarts, on the night she was unable to sleep, plagued by the doubts of tomorrow. She sneaked out of her dormitories and up the Astronomy tower. There she sat, feeling the breeze rush through her hair, tangling it, when she heard the footsteps. Self-assured, firm footsteps that usually resulted in her bracing herself for the onslaught of insults that was sure to follow. She knew who the footsteps belonged to, yet she couldn't stop the reflex action of turning her head and seeing her deductions prove to be true.

Draco Malfoy stood there, frowning at her and she quickly turned her head, as if refusing to acknowledge him. Apparently, he took it as a welcome sign because he sat down next to her with a grunt.

And so, it becomes a ritual. She doesn't go to the tower every night, but she gets the feeling that he does. When she does go, they ignore one another and sit quietly, relishing the solitude and quietness which was in startling contrast to the atmosphere between them during the day, in the presence of others. One day, however, she gathers all her Gryffindor courage and greets him with a quiet hello. He looks surprised and after a moment's pause, he says, 'Granger' and nods.

A few nights after that, she talks to him and he replies with grunts. Soon, he talks to her too. But the others never know. He still throws insults her way and she still shoots back witty replies. It doesn't bother them as they both know it is all a façade. He inwardly marvels at her replies while he fumes on the outside. She outwardly voices her disgust at his childishness but knows his thoughts go far deeper than she or her friends could ever fathom.

Soon, their nightly talks turn deeper. They talk about life, duty and death.

On a cloudless night, she asks him about trust. He doesn't trust anyone. She sees that, yet she feels the need to ask him.

"Trust?" He scoffs. "I do not trust anyone. Trust," he says, inserting a tone of nastiness unique to him, "makes you more vulnerable. Trusting someone," he sneers," does not save you when the world comes crashing down on your shoulders."

"No," she says quietly."But when you trust others and when they trust you, they will be willing to help shoulder the burden."

"Do you trust me?" He asks, looking at her out of the corner of his eyes. But, as she, Hermione Granger looks at him, Draco Malfoy, she sees anticipation dormant under his hooded eyes. She hesitates and he revels in it. He opens his mouth to spit out a barbed remark, when she says, with quiet certainty and carefully hidden apprehension, "Yes."

His eyes widen and he stares at her. But it only lasts a short while, and he pulls himself together, perhaps realizing he has yet to make a scathing remark to uphold his image of being a hater of all thing Muggle and Muggleborn ; a hater of her. But for whose benefit, she wonders. They know each other far better than they would've liked and she wonders why he still feels the need to accentuate it, when she knows, _he _knows, that in accepting her company, he has admitted to himself and to her, that he does not believe in the bigoted views of his father.

"Of course, you would. You're a Gryffindor." He sneers, but she can't help but notice that it is said with considerably less barb than before and she begins to hope, just a little bit, that Draco Malfoy is more human than he lets on. And as he gets up and walks away from her, his footsteps less sure of himself, less superior than it was when he first came to the tower, she allows herself to hope a little more. And as he nearly trips, immersed in his thoughts about what she just said, she allows herself a little smile, and knows that Draco Malfoy, self proclaimed person who trusts none, is wondering about the after effects of trusting her.

He never comes back to the tower. At times, she wonders when she stopped going to the tower to get over her insomnia and when she started going to the tower to see _him._

She thinks of this later, when Death Eaters attack Hogwarts. She rues the fact that she didn't try harder when she sees the rubble of her beloved school all around her.

She thinks of it again, when she sees Professor McGonagall announce that Professor Dumbledore was killed by Professor Snape. She lets her eyes wander and they come to rest on someone standing next to the Professor. She dares to hope that the pale young man next to the Professor is real and not the figment of her imagination. She hopes someone will pinch her. But the call of reality comes when she hears someone say that _he _supposedly gave the warning, which gave the teachers enough time to gather themselves and fight back. He sees her and gives her a grimace, which she supposes was meant to be a smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Harry, Ron and Ginny turn to her. She feels happy, no, ecstatic, that maybe, just maybe, her words might've found their target. She smiles broadly back at him. Her friends gape at her and she would've found it funny if the atmosphere wasn't so somber. He looks startled for a second and then smiles, this being a true smile rather the obviously faked one before.

She reads in his eyes that he decided to trust her too. She wonders if she imagined it, her active mind giving meaning to meaningless things. But as he looks at her with a mix of hope, apprehension and vulnerability in his usually impassive eyes, she knows she did not imagine it.

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**A/N: Read and Review!**


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